“Because aeroplanes, as he says, are going to win the war for somebody. You can scout all behind the enemy’s lines. We’ve got about three aeroplanes at present.... I say, isn’t there anything you fellows are interested in except cricket?”
“Yes, cigarettes,” said Robin. “And we like hearing you talk, as long as we needn’t listen. But aren’t you and Mackenzie getting on rather quick?”
“Not as quick as things are getting on. I had an argument with Mackenzie——”
“You don’t say so!” said Jim.
“I did. I think war is the devil. If England went to war, nothing would induce me to stop protesting against it.”
“Oh, are you a—a Pacific?” hazarded Robin.
“Ocean. Try Pacifist. Of course I am; so would you be if you thought. How does killing people prove your point? If you said I had a green nose, I shouldn’t kill you in order to prove it wasn’t green. And if you killed me, it wouldn’t prove that it was. My nose would remain precisely the same colour whether you killed me or not.”
“It might become crimson first,” said Robin.
“I suppose that’s funny. War is utterly illogical and uncivilized. Only schoolboys fight when they disagree.”
“If you’ll stop talking, I’ll bet you half-a-crown that we shan’t go to war. Besides, we’ve got an invincible fleet, and I suppose Germany’s got an invincible army. Will the army swim out and board the fleet, or will our sailors put off in small boats and fight the Germans on land? It’s all rot. Your move, Jim.”